Page 41 of The Retreat

There were many things Talia had prepared herself for this weekend. Small talk, poor sleep, the weight of pretending to be in a happy relationship. Tug of war had not been on the list. Especially not one refereed by Rebecca, who treated every children’s game as if the players very lives depended on which team of corporate lawyers could drag the other through a patch of cow shit.

‘Rebecca’s really going for it, isn’t she?’ Imogen murmured beside her.

She was standing close. Not too close. Just near enough that Talia could feel the warmth of her body through the light fabric of her T-shirt.

Imogen ran warm, Talia realised. It was one of those ridiculous details Talia had noticed about her. Like how she smiled when she was nervous and that her eyes flickered with a kind of quiet mischief when no one else was looking. Those small things made her impossible to ignore.

‘She’s got a clipboard and a dream,’ Talia muttered, eyes still on the rope. ‘That’s a dangerous combination.’

Imogen smiled. Talia smiled back. And then stopped herself. She was gonna have to stop grinning at this woman. It was getting silly.

They weren’t supposed to be on opposite teams, but Rebecca had announced they needed to “mix it up” and “model adaptive collaboration” — whatever that meant — so now Talia was leading Team Resilience and ‘Alex’ was on Team Innovation. It was all a bit Alan Sugar for Talia’s liking.

‘You ready to lose?’ Imogen asked.

‘Not remotely,’ Talia told her.

She tried to keep it light, teasing. But it was getting harder to control the way her voice changed when she spoke to Imogen.

She looked away before she could linger on that thought. Across the lawn, Marcus Talbot was hyping up his teammates with what appeared to be a pre-game chant. Daniel Parsons—inexplicably shirtless under his gilet—was shadow-boxing. Jade was trying to get Peter Chen to bet on who would fall over first. But he wasn’t looking up from his phone.

Talia retied her shoelaces till they pinched. She could do this. She’d survived a twelve-hour negotiation with a South African mining company on four hours of sleep. She could survive some rope-based theatre.

And then she looked up and saw Imogen. Pulling her hair back. Tying it off. Laughing at something Rhona had said. The laugh reached her eyes.

‘You’re staring,’ Jade said suddenly from behind her.

‘Jesus,’ Talia said, clutching her heart.

‘Eyes on the prize, Knox.’

‘She’s my girlfriend. I’m supposed to stare,’ Talia said quickly.

‘I suppose I can’t blame you. That is quite the arse.’

Talia was sick of Jade’s shit, and this time she wasn’t making a joke out of it. ‘Could you knock that off? It’s inappropriate.’

‘I’m just kidding.’

‘Find other things to joke about,’ Talia warned her. ‘Because those kinds of jokes are not OK for work. You’ll get yourself in trouble. At the very least, it will hold you back.’

Jade blinked. ‘Don’t be so uptight.’

‘I’m trying to help you,’ Talia told her honestly. ‘You’re pissing people off.’

‘I’m pissing you off, you mean,’ Jade said. ‘Worried I’ll steal your girlfriend?’

‘No,’ Talia said. ‘She wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole.’

Jade laughed a bit too loudly. ‘Oh, really? You want to put money on that?’

‘Stop it, Jade. I’m not playing.’ And then something came out that was kind of weird. ‘She’s mine.’

Ugh, what?

Jade sputtered a laugh. ‘Man, I bet you were that kid who wouldn’t share her toys.’

‘People aren’t toys,’ Talia told her. ‘And we’re not children.’

‘I’m not the one getting red in the face at a few jokes.’

Talia turned away to find Jade was right. There was heat in her face. She would have loved to tell herself that she was simply playing her part with gusto, but what was the use anymore? That comforting lie just wasn’t cutting the mustard. Not anymore.

That became even more clear moments later.

‘Positions!’ Rebecca shouted.

Talia planted her feet, wrapping the rough rope around her wrist, eyes locked on the line. Across from her, Imogen dug in, muscles taut.

The whistle blew.

Rebecca was bellowing encouragement like she was coaching the Olympics. June was shouting contradictory instructions. Claire dug her heels in like she was trying to anchor herself to the Earth’s core.

Talia gritted her teeth and pulled, boots slipping in the wet grass, arms on fire. The rope wrenched against her wrist, and someone behind her screamed, ‘Dig, Talia! Dig like you mean it!’

Across from her, Imogen was pulling for all she was worth. Her face was flushed, strands of blonde hair escaping in wild tangles, grinning like she was having the time of her life.

‘Is that all you’ve got, Talia?’ Imogen called, dimples popping.

Talia tightened her grip and tried to focus. But her mind wasn’t on the rope. It was on the curve of Imogen’s smile, the way her amber-hazel eyes sparkled with mischief and confidence. For the briefest second, the world narrowed to just the two of them, and everything else faded away. She felt herself being pulled forward.

Talia pulled back with everything she had, but it was too late. The rope slipped through her fingers. Team Resilience lost.

Talia dropped the rope and stepped back, catching her breath. This was officially ludicrous. Now she couldn’t even hang onto a rope without getting distracted by Imogen Lake and her stupidly perfect face?

‘You alright?’ Imogen asked, walking over.

Talia nodded. She was brushing grass off her trousers, her eyes still fixed on the ground. ‘Pride slightly bruised. Legs intact.’

‘Jesus,’ said Daniel, strolling past with a bottle of something fizzy. ‘I cannot believe you two have been together a year.’

Talia blinked, panicked. ‘Why not?’

He shrugged. ‘Because you two still have that thing.’

‘Thing?’

‘Yeah, that thing when you’re seconds from ripping each other’s clothes off.’

There was a beat of silence. Daniel, ever oblivious, sighed. ‘Man, I miss that. I’m lucky if the wife even lets me touch the remote these days.’ He walked off.

Talia felt Imogen shift beside her. Neither of them said anything. And that made it that much worse.